


If We Dream

by zhennan



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: M/M, get well soon ravn, i'm not an expert on any of these things so it may be inaccurate, mas0094, mention of car accident, rbw, slight hearing loss, stan onf!, the title is an onf song i was listening to two mins before uploading this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 23:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhennan/pseuds/zhennan
Summary: Youngjo's been bitter over Yonghoon ghosting him for six years, but that bitterness really motivated him to excel in his music career. When Yonghoon comes back, Youngjo decides it's time to return the favor.





	If We Dream

Yonghoon’s parents often characterized him as passionate, hardworking, and easily excitable. At the age of seventeen, he dreamed big, and with many dreams at the same time. Currently, amongst his dreams of being a sheep supporter and opening his own restaurant, he dreamt of being a singer, and when he dreamed of something so enthusiastically, he did whatever possible to fulfill the dream. He learned how to play guitar and piano after the many lessons he begged his parents to pay for. His mom tended to support his endeavors, but there was just so much she could do for him financially. She felt proud of him for being passionate, but she occasionally wished it cost less. Nonetheless, she followed Yonghoon as he found places on the street to play guitar and sing, sometimes even lugging his keyboard around. Not many people stopped to listen, only a few high school girls who found him attractive. Yet when a boy around his age stood in front of him, watching Yonghoon with a special glimmer in his eye, he immediately acknowledged this boy was something else.

Youngjo himself was also very interested in music. Influenced by hip hop since his younger days, he wished to one day produce music as powerful. Unlike Yonghoon, music remained his one and only lifelong dream. When he encountered a boy who looked a bit older than him singing and playing the guitar in front of his favorite music store, to say Youngjo appeared impressed was an understatement. Somehow, his gaze latched onto the boy, unable to be removed, utterly immersed in his performance. Though the boy’s skills were still rather average and barely rivaled professional singers, it was the confidence that appealed to Youngjo. Seeing Yonghoon so engrossed in his music, Youngjo wondered if he could radiate the same kind of energy and fascinate others the same way. Even after the performance, Youngjo lingered around the busking area, wanting so badly to talk to Yonghoon. Yonghoon seemed to sense the younger’s interest and approached him first.

Youngjo surveyed the records inside the music store when Yonghoon walked up to the younger boy. He picked up a Michael Jackson record he considered buying and glanced at him, “Thanks for watching, you know, outside.” Youngjo, evidently surprised, jumped in place at the sound of him.

“Oh,” he responded blankly, blinking up at the taller, “Yeah, you were really good. I mean, I’m not that into pop but I liked it.”

This allowed Yonghoon to smile, “That’s actually a really nice compliment.” He stretched his hand towards the younger, “I’m Yonghoon.”

Youngjo took his hand almost immediately, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Youngjo. I actually want to be a musician myself, so it was cool to see you out there.” Yonghoon’s eyes lit up. Without him even asking, he began to talk about his own interest in music and what he’s doing to pursue it. The more Youngjo heard him talk, the more he yearned to do the same. He wished to assume his own confident persona, being able to create the music he wants and spread it anywhere. Even though they participated in completely different genres, they connected over their shared passion and interest of music. The two of them talked for the next hour, moving from the music store to a nearby café, with Yonghoon’s mom watching over them a few tables down.

When Youngjo left because his dad called him, he gave Yonghoon his phone number and hoped to receive a text later that night. What the both of them didn’t know, however, was the small handshake they did as Youngjo backed out of the shop would be the last time they would interact for a few years, and when they meet again, Yonghoon would have no memory of Youngjo whatsoever. His mom could only wish that she let him spend more money on his dreams while he had the chance to.

 

“Ravn hyung,” Giwook pouts up at the taller, black haired boy. He bats his eyelashes to emphasize his pureness and innocence as one of Youngjo’s younger friends. Youngjo, also known as his stage name, Ravn, only smiles as a dad would smile at his son, shaking his head and not giving into any sort of cute acts Giwook attempts.

“Giwook, no, you’re gonna collapse if you’re still working for another hour. I’m starving, just eat with me,” he huffs with a hint of a smile, trying to pull the younger boy out of his chair. Giwook remains firmly seated and Youngjo thinks back to when he was his age, around seventeen years old, feeling motivated by a busker who never texted him after giving him his number. He quickly dismisses the flashback as Giwook speaks up.

“I promise you I’ll have this song done in thirty minutes. Go eat, I’ll join you later,” he equips his puppy eyes and stares at Youngjo for a minute before looking back at his computer, where he was working on a new song featuring Ravn himself. Youngjo only sighs, giving up, understanding he can’t change the resolve of a boy that age. When a teenager like Giwook is passionate, he could go beyond limits anyone hasn’t even imagined. He learned that personally after meeting Yonghoon, six years ago. 

_And back to Yonghoon,_ he thinks, finding that he remembers the man too many times in a day for someone he didn’t talk to for six years. He realizes at this point he was mostly bitter but also very thankful to him. Even though he wished to have stayed in touch with him, he still fueled his dreams and made him into the musician he was today (which, arguably, was only a SoundCloud rapper that somehow went viral one day).

Whenever Youngjo and Giwook were working together, which was very often, they ate lunch at the café outside of their company building. Youngjo would order his usual tuna sandwich while Giwook opted for a cup of coffee and a few snacks. That boy had the worst diet ever, but somehow remained fit and healthy. “The power of youth,” Youngjo would say, reminiscing about his own younger days, despite their age difference only being five years.

Today, Youngjo grabs a turkey sandwich instead and sits at the corner of the café, right next to a window. He zones out before taking a bite, staring at the people walking by and into the store. The sandwich is only a centimeter in his mouth when he spots a familiar figure stride into the café. The bell attached to the door basically wakes him up. He ultimately puts down the sandwich that he hasn’t even started and widens his eyes at the approaching sight of Jin Yonghoon, the busking singer he met six years ago. Though it was more than half of a decade, Yonghoon looks the same as Youngjo remembers him, but with a device wrapped around his ear. He tilts his head at the older boy in confusion, wondering why he’s wearing a hearing aid, but nonetheless waits for him to finish ordering before sauntering over to him.

The way Youngjo imagined it seemed much cooler in his head than how he actually executed it. When he stomps over to Yonghoon, he lost his footing and instinctively grasps Yonghoon’s arm to prevent him from falling back. Though, very less cliché-like, Yonghoon did not join the fall, rather he quickly picks Youngjo up from the small of his back and asks if he was okay. Youngjo, in shock from what just happened, didn’t seem to process the question. He tries to remember Yonghoon’s voice, the voice he hasn’t forgotten for six years, but it just didn’t sound the same. Can a voice change in that time period? Yonghoon wasn’t even going through puberty, though.

“Excuse me, sir, I said are you okay?” Yonghoon repeats, enunciating more clearly considering Youngjo didn’t hear him the first time. He only nodded and Yonghoon finally removed his hand from his back. Youngjo felt the emptiness.

“Yonghoon,” he voices what his mind was screaming at him. The owner of the name appears confused, moving over to allow other customers to order with ease. Youngjo watches his every move intently, almost as though he would disappear at any moment, just like how he did six years ago.

“Have we met before?” Yonghoon answers. Those four words feels like the equivalent of driving knives into Youngjo’s chest and he thought he would cry at any moment.

“Yeah, I watched your busking performance six years ago—” the sentence tumbles out of Youngjo’s mouth and Yonghoon has to interrupt him in order to stop him from rambling.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he begins, and Youngjo expects this response until he hears the next words, “I don’t remember. I was in an accident around that time and lost some of my memory.”

Youngjo senses the weight on his shoulders being lifted and all of his insecurities have been solved with this one statement. He feels at peace, though the reason why makes him regret the nights he spent cursing the name Jin Yonghoon. The hearing aid also begins to make sense to him now and he convinces Yonghoon to sit down with him.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could remember,” Yonghoon says softly after Youngjo explains how the two met and how he left such a lasting impression on him. However, he brightens up a bit with a smile, “I’m so happy you’re still doing music though! A few weeks after my accident I remembered how much I love music and I was a bit bummed out that I couldn’t continue.”

Youngjo finds himself oddly fuming at the fact that Yonghoon gave up on music. He furrows his eyebrows and sharpens his glare, “Why couldn’t you?” Yonghoon looks awkward as he taps his hearing aid in response, but Youngjo quickly counters, “Your disability shouldn’t stop you.”

“I’m in school right now,” Yonghoon breathes out in a sigh, “I’m in this really great business program and looking to starting my own business one day. Passions change. My mom said that my dreams changed every year or so. She was kind of disappointed too and wished I could’ve done more while I was able to but it’s only natural, Youngjo, and it’s okay.”

“You really liked music, though,” Youngjo argues, “I remember it so vividly, you talked to me about music with this… how do I say it? It was almost like you loved music more than all of the stars in the universe, and it showed in your eyes, they literally twinkled.”

“Wow, that was so gay.” Youngjo suddenly hears Giwook’s voice behind them and almost screams at the sound. Yonghoon turns, expecting him, and does his best to listen as he greets Youngjo, “Hyung, I finished my song quickly to join you only to see that you’re on a date? I see the kind of person you are.”

“We literally just met, Giwook,” Youngjo retorts with a roll of his eyes.

“Technically, we met six years ago,” Yonghoon clarifies, despite not remembering the moment, “I’m Yonghoon.”

Giwook’s eyes widen significantly, “ _The_ Yonghoon? I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Giwook but I go by Cya for musical purposes. I’m kind of Youngjo’s apprentice, which makes me also kind of your apprentice. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I don’t do music anymore—”

“Quick, Giwook, convince the guy that he should keep pursuing music despite his hearing loss,” Youngjo interrupts.

“You should keep pursuing music despite your— wait, what?” Giwook repeats like a machine until he fully processes the words. He pulls up a chair to sit next to the couple and asks, “So that’s why you ghosted hyung for six years?”

Youngjo looks panicked while Yonghoon simply laughs and nods at his reaction. Before someone sparks another conversation, Yonghoon’s phone, lying face down on the table, vibrates angrily and emits a light to signal a notification. When he picks up his phone and reads it, his face drops. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he packs up all of his belongings and gets up. Before taking a few steps back, he presses a few buttons on his phone and passes it to Youngjo, “Put in your phone number, I promise this time I’ll text you.”

Youngjo’s smile never leaves his face even when Yonghoon disappears from his eyesight. Somehow, he feels confident and reassured he’ll text him this time. It’s only a matter of minutes when he receives a text, its contents being about Yonghoon’s inability to wait to text him. He chuckles to himself and Giwook looks at him with a menacing smile on his face.

“I did not know a crush could last six years.”

“Do you ever shut up, Giwook?”

 

Yonghoon’s first time visiting Youngjo (and Giwook)’s studio a month after they reunited turned out more successful than originally planned. Youngjo simply wanted him to pick up music again, not expecting him to actually gain back some of his memories from the time they first met.

“Who’s guitar is this?” he asks Youngjo, “Do you play?”

“Oh God no,” Youngjo immediately responds, pointing at Giwook hunched over his computer screen with his headphones on, “That’s his. He wanted to be in a band so he learned guitar and bass, but now he’s set on rap and making beats.”

Yonghoon hums, picking up the guitar and finding himself play a few chords with just his muscle memory. He looks up at Youngjo as he does so and something surges through his body. His grasp on the guitar loosens but he doesn’t let the guitar reach the ground. It lays on his lap and his facial expression falls blank. Youngjo waves his hand in front of his face, thinking he’s only zoned out, but gasps when Yonghoon tells him, “Those were the chords of the song I played when I saw you.”

“You remember?!” Youngjo gets up so fast in excitement that Giwook turns to look at him, wondering what the fuss was. He notices Yonghoon on his guitar and raises his eyebrows, taking his headphones off.

“Can I play something?” Yonghoon asks Giwook, and he seems a bit surprised by the question. Giwook nods and Yonghoon almost immediately plays the same chords again, this time continuing after.

In a second, Yonghoon is transported to the front of the music store, staring at seventeen year old Youngjo while playing a self-composed song. Youngjo’s mouth widens, the song engulfing his entire being. Yonghoon’s fingers move on their own, since he practiced this song too many times before; he even played it at different busking locations. He senses his mother’s presence somewhere off to the side and imagines himself going into the music store to talk to Youngjo. He can feel the texture of the Michael Jackson vinyl he picks up, as well as the warmth of the coffee cup he drank while talking to Youngjo. He remembers tucking a post-it with his phone number into his pocket and the sensation of shaking his hand goodbye. Lastly, he vaguely imagines the truck colliding into his side; though the vision isn’t very clear, he experiences the same pain that rushed through his torso.

By the end of the song, Yonghoon wants to cry. He can’t stop himself when he witnesses Youngjo with his face in his hands, silent sobs shaking his entire body. Giwook finds himself tearing up at the sight, but turns away and puts his headphones back on. Yonghoon and Youngjo end up in each other’s arms, soaking in each other’s memories.

 

“Move over,” Youngjo sneers, one year after meeting Yonghoon again. He gently pushes Yonghoon’s side with his own shoulder, “You’re too old to understand music software.”

Instead of moving over as Youngjo asked, Yonghoon grabs the sides of Youngjo’s waist and squeezes him slightly as a reaction to the jibe. He then picks him up and bring him onto his thighs, allowing him to sit on his lap. Youngjo’s whole body heats up and he hopes the older boy can’t feel it.

Youngjo’s studio upgraded quite a lot since a year ago when Yonghoon first visited it. After a year, he made his name Ravn much more known to the public, resulting in extra profit to move into a bigger room away from Giwook and buy newer equipment. Giwook, who also got more popular as Cya (and joined a band like his lifelong dream), stayed in Youngjo’s old studio, but now alone. They often worked in each other’s studios, though, since they loved collaborating. Youngjo also didn’t like to admit it, but he missed his old studio sometimes.

Yonghoon graduated with a degree in business management. After regaining his memories of Youngjo, he retrieved his passion of music but felt too tired of school to go back and study music. Instead, he works a normal office job with the motivation of one day opening his own music label and signing Ravn as his first artist, Giwook and his band being second. He occasionally helps Youngjo with his music and sometimes writes his own songs just for fun. Though, a part of him still wants to open up his own restaurant and maybe move to Australia to become a sheep supporter.

“Thank you for everything,” Yonghoon feels compelled to say. When he does, he notices that the sound is slightly faded, so before Youngjo responds, he gestures for him to pause and takes out his hearing aid. He notices the batteries died and he physically slumps. Times like these made him remember his hearing impairment and its permanence. Almost as though he heard his thoughts, Youngjo places his hand on Yonghoon’s.

“It’s okay,” Youngjo enunciates, “You can still hear partially, right?” Yonghoon nods, and Youngjo opens his mouth again, “Then you’re fine.” He rummages through the cabinets next to his computer desks and pulls out spare hearing aid batteries, “And I have these, too.”

Yonghoon stares at Youngjo for the longest time, confused as to how he knew which batteries were compatible with his hearing aid and why he stores them in his studio. His heart beats fast, thinking about the countless things Youngjo did for him, and his hands work faster than his mind. He cups Youngjo’s cheek before pressing his lips against his own.

When he pulls away, Yonghoon is terrified. However, he notices the same glint in Youngjo’s eyes as he did the first time they met, seven years ago. Youngjo smiles brightly, wraps his arms around Yonghoon’s neck, and kisses him again.

Eventually, they get back on task and replace Yonghoon’s batteries. Youngjo holds Yonghoon’s hand and intertwines their fingers, “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I owe you so much more than you can even imagine, Jin Yonghoon.”

“Just pay me back by kissing me again, does that sound good?”

“You didn’t even have to ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> i've been writing fanfiction for awhile but this is my first time in maybe a year to publish something and i know i am like the only shipper for yonghoon/youngjo so i hope it's okay! i'm sorry if anything is factually inaccurate i don't know why i wrote about something i have no experience in but still. thank you for reading stan oneus and onewe (and onf they helped me choose the title) <3


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